


No Breakfast

by insanitys_cowgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 23:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanitys_cowgirl/pseuds/insanitys_cowgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little h/c tag to "Mystery Spot" can be either brothers or really light Wincest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Breakfast

There was a gun shot, and Sam fell to the floor next to Dean, pulling his brother into his lap and trying to stop the bleeding, to do something. Sam broke, shattered to pieces as he felt Dean's heart stop. No. NO! Their year wasn't up yet, it wasn't over. Why? He jolted up in bed, the radio blasting the same song as yesterday. Except the radio said it _was_ yesterday? What? Sam couldn't stop staring at Dean, really wanting to hug his big brother, but not wanting to freak him out. Dean obviously didn't remember a thing.

Sam couldn't wrap his mind around what was happening, but maybe he was being given a second chance to save his brother. So that was good at least. It took the younger Winchester a while to finally convince Dean what he was saying was the truth, and after all that, it happened again. The car came out of nowhere, and Dean went bumping up over the hood and landing in the street, dead on impact. Sam pulled his brother into his arms and cried for the second Tuesday in a row. And then came the radio again. It just kept happening, Dean kept dying, in rediculous, but still upsetting ways, until Sam felt kind of empty and just so done.

And then, finally, they found the trickster and it was Wednsday, and Dean died again. And Sam was supposed to wake up, but he didn't. He had to live on. He threw himself into hunting, becoming fiercer, stronger, and loosing more of himself with each kill. All Sam could see was his brother, dead and looking so very small. All Sam could think of was finding that damn trickster and either making him bring Dean back, or killing him. And if he managed this and Dean still wasn't back, Sam didn't know what to do. This went on for months until Sam got the call that Bobby had found the trickster.

Sam, who really wasn't Sam at all, didn't hug Bobby back. He didn't think twice about taking an innocent life if it meant having Dean back. And then Sam ran Bobby through with a bloodied stake because _that wasn't Bobby_.

The trickster seemed a bit unbelieving when Sam wouldn't accept his lesson, but, none the less he snapped his fingers and Sam woke up and it was Wednsday. And there was Dean. _Dean_.

"It's Wednsday." Sam said, still kind of in shock.

"Yeah, which usually follows Tuesday." Dean snapped back. Sam crossed the hotel room and flung his arms tight around his big brother.

"Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?" Dean questioned as Sam clutched him as tight as he could.

"Enough." Sam said brokenly. And then Dean felt the wet warmth of tears on his neck, and Sam's breath shuddering in his chest as he tried to hold himself back.

"Sam? Did something else happen?" Dean asked.

"No." Sam lied, not wanting to tell his brother what it had been like without him. Not wanting Dean to worry too much about what would happen when he was truly gone.

"Sammy?" Dean pushed, but his baby brother just shook his head and tucked his face into Dean's neck. Dean knew he wasn't going to get a real answer out of Sam, so he just wrapped his arms around Sam and let him get out the tears he couldn't stop. Dean pushed a hand through Sam's hair and a strangled sob wrenched it's way out of the taller man's chest. And then another followed and Sam couldn't stop them. Dean held him tighter, pressing his cheek to the side of Sam's head, weaving his fingers through his brother's hair again.

"Hey, 's okay, Sammy." Dean whispered. Sam's chest heaved with yet another sob and he tightened his death grip on Dean, fingers curling into his big brother's shirt.

"I'm still here." Dean comforted, even though he wouldn't be for much longer. "I'm still here, Sammy. It's OK." Sam's sobs began slowly to subside, his breath shuddering. He focused on the rhythm of Dean's breathing, using it's cadence to steady his own. Finally he got a hold of himself and pulled away from Dean, a few stray tears still making their way down his reddened face.

"Let's go." Sam pratcially pleaded.

"What, no breakfast?" Dean kidded, wiping away the tears from his baby brother's face. Sam gave him a small, watery smile.

"No breakfast."


End file.
